Letters to My Future Bride

I see you out there, clinging to hope like a climber’s cleft, trying to be strong, just hoping to break even. I see the glory and solitude of the season descending on you, the epoch of bitter and sweet. You’re happy to be doing well on your own. (After all, the mere act of life — with its licenses and setbacks and deadlines and demands — can be gargantuan!) You’re on your own and you’re managing. You’re keeping your head above the tide, you’re keeping the colors within the lines. But it’d be nice to have someone to lean on.

You want rescuing, but you don’t want to want it. You want the hurt to end, you just want a piece of life without its loneliness, without a missing ingredient you can neither name nor place. You want rest and peace. Your eyes are tired from seeking the face of a familiar stranger.

You want to let go, but you don’t want to fall. If you let go, you want to be caught, but not by just anyone. There aren’t many you’d actually trust to catch you, and you’d really rather they be the one destined to catch you for the rest of your life.

You want to be cared for, wrapped up, held. It’s cold outside…just the weather for warm drinks and cuddling on the couch while watching a movie.

You’re tired. Tired of the rhythm of your weary feet, the passing of the years, the meals cooked for one. Tired of trying your best, only to have no one to tell you you are the best.

You’re tired of the almosts and not-quites, the posers, doppelgangers and imposters.

You’re tired of eating alone, and sleeping alone, and being alone. You’re tired of faking a smile every day of your life, because no one will help you carry your sadness, or give you a reason to smile.

You’re tired of the happy couples, the romantic movies and the love songs. You’re tired of pregnant moms and beautiful babies, tired of people telling you you’d be a great mom, asking you when your turn will come.

You’re tired of always having to do the heavy lifting, of being consumed from the inside out, of having to soothe yourself. Tired of feeling like the future is perpetually on hold.

Day is cold, night is long, silence is bitter. You want life to get started. You want to be understood, or for someone to at least try. You don’t want to be trapped anymore. You want a hello with promise, and goodbyes without fear.

You don’t want to be lonely.

Darling, it’s alright. I see you. Not with eyes, not the spectrum of mortal color channeled through the optic nerve, but a sense of the heart, a perception of the soul, an echo of eternity. I know what you feel, I see what you dream.

You aren’t alone.

I’ll get there. I spend every night praying I’ll get to be your hero soon. We are two years closer to our meeting, and though each day has been passed in loneliness and solitude, it is two years of waiting that are complete and behind us. Take heart! White fire and pure reward await those who fulfill their oaths.

Did you ever notice how everyone wants to be great…but no one wants to prepare for it?

People see movies, hear songs or read books and they’re inspired by a dim reflection of greatness, a brief glint of glory in their eyes that gives them a vision of what it’s like to be amazing. But all too quickly, the light dies. The vision ends. People don’t stoke that fire within themselves, they don’t break out of their comfort zones or go beyond themselves. They don’t choose greatness. Nor do they want to prepare for the day greatness chooses them. They select what is easy, and mediocre is easy. People choose the closest and easiest relationship, and are surprised (yet resigned) when it proves ephemeral. They remain at a mediocre job but live beyond or just above their means, and complain that they can’t get ahead.

They complain about financial and domestic woes, but from so many that I’ve seen, they don’t do what they could to get ahead. They settle…settle for the least, because they don’t strive for the most.

Not me.

Darling, I don’t just want a love that’s good. I won’t settle for okay or fair or average. I want a love that’s great. I don’t mean great as in “this salad is great.” I mean a love that resonate with greatness and renown. I want a love people gossip about, a love too good to be true. I want our love story to ring through the ages. I want a love that is the stuff of legend.

Who are the great love stories of our time? When you think of famous loves, what comes to mind? Robert and Elizabeth Browning? Johnny and June? Odysseus and Penelope? Beren and Luthien?

Oh, maybe they won’t actually write stories about us, or sing of our union when we sleep in our graves, but why shouldn’t we strive for greatness? Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t pursue an affection so pure and thriving as to be the envy of our friends and even strangers?

I want our wedding to be awesome. I want our honeymoon to dazzle. I want our first year together to be fantastic. I want joyous holidays and parties and anniversaries. I want people to grumble that we can’t be as happy as we are together, that something is wrong, or we’re hiding. I want to do things to make them say “wow, he loved her that much!”

I want to defy the naysayers by staying in love, and dumbfound the critics by growing stronger together. I want people to think there’s no way two such good-looking people could have such a rich and abundant life together, to be as happy as we are, with good job(s), good house, good kids and still in love.

I want to set our kids an example. I want to set other peoples’ kids an example. I want our families to admire us and emulate us not for the great virtue we possess, or the glory we contrive, but for the blessing of the God we serve.

I even want our fights to be good! Loud and proper, but short and fleeting, like a passing squall. I want fights where we can both break down in laughter at how absurd the situation is, or fights where we can both be so logical that one side clearly must concede to the other. I want people to say “that was your argument?!” Regardless, I want us to be willing to forgive each other quickly…then spend half the night making it up to each other.

It’s not like I want to make people jealous, or that I want an audience. In fact, I want to be so blissfully in love with you that we don’t even notice the others. I merely want to enfold ourselves in a love so fantastic that the necessary byproduct is inspiration.

I want to inspire. I want to foster a romance for the ages, where our children and our children’s children look at us and aspire to have a love like ours. I want to outshine movie couples and make them look like two-dimensional TV flings.

I plan on doing my part. My love, I want you to look at me with teeth that can’t stop smiling and say “you’re amazing.” I want to earn that kind of love and joy. I’ve only just begun to list the promises of things I want to do to give us a better life.

Of course, as in all things, we must acknowledge reality’s unplanned invasion and admit it may not always be like that. I can see the sleep-deprived day of dogs barking, baby screaming, hair stringing, faucets leaking and phone ringing. I know you well enough by now to know you’re real, and life will be real. But is that any excuse not to try?

Come on, gorgeous. Dare to dream with me. Take my hand and let’s jump together. Even if we don’t hit the moon, we can dance among the stars.

About

Welcome. You’ve stumbled upon the secretest of treasure troves; love letters to a woman I’ve never met. Luthien, the love of my life, my future bride. Until time and time’s Author release her to me, I am hiding the poems, laments and love-sick lullabies tucked away here, in a quiet corner until we meet; private words spoken publicly. You are invited to tread among these sacred thoughts, and may by some grace be encouraged in your wait, and to remember your own love, your own value and the precious rewards of waiting.

Your comments, likes and shares are welcome. If you have questions, a letter may find its way to my door if addressed to LetterstoLuthien, by way of the courier known as Yahoo.